


Black Is The Colour

by Alobear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 12:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20815418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alobear/pseuds/Alobear
Summary: Marauders fic. Unhappy at going home for the holidays, Sirius provokes his mother into throwing him out.





	Black Is The Colour

**Author's Note:**

> This was written long ago, but I still like it!

“Stupid bloody robes,” Peter whined, managing somehow to wrap himself up in them as he attempted to fold them.

After another couple of minutes of struggling, he extricated himself with a curse, screwed the offending garments up into a ball and cast them into his trunk.

“Mum’ll have a fit when she sees that,” he muttered, “but I’d rather be yelled at for five minutes tomorrow than spend hours doing it properly now.”

Remus, who had packed up all his belongings earlier in the day, looked up from his book and caught the eye of Sirius, who was lounging on his own bed. They shared a smile at this characteristic statement of Peter’s, then Remus went back to his reading.

At the foot of the fourth bed, James was carefully stacking books in the bottom of his own trunk. Straightening up to collect some more, he glanced over at Sirius’ empty trunk.

“You’re leaving it a bit late, aren’t you?” he said.

In answer, Sirius produced his wand with a flourish. Once he had the attention of the other three boys, he executed a complicated wand manoeuvre and called out an incantation unlike any they had learned in class. Behind him, his cupboard doors opened smoothly and his possessions flew out into the air. They dropped one by one into his trunk and, within a minute, everything was stowed neatly away. The trunk closed itself, leaving Sirius grinning smugly in the face of the others’ astonishment.

“That was incredible!” James exclaimed. “Where did you learn that?”

Sirius put his wand away again. “Oh, I first thought of it when we were packing up for Christmas, so I did some research and found something that was sort of a cross between a levitation spell and a summoning charm. I’ve been working on it all term.”

“Why didn’t you teach it to the rest of us?” Peter said.

“Because he wanted to show off, of course,” Remus told him, before turning back to his book with feigned boredom.

It was the last day of their fifth year at Hogwarts. OWLs were over and the long summer holiday stretched before them, a release from lessons but also a separation from one another’s company. The following morning, they would catch the Hogwarts Express back to London and perhaps not see each other for several weeks. Sirius’ parents wouldn’t allow his friends to stay in the holidays, Remus’ house was too small for guests, and Peter lived too far away from the others for them to visit him easily, so they sometimes met up at the Potters’, but it wasn’t the same as sharing a dormitory at school.

So, when James and Peter finished their packing, and James suggested they all turn in for the night, Sirius was loath to do so.

“But we’ve got to be up really early tomorrow, and we’ll have all day on the train,” James pointed out sensibly.

Before Sirius could argue, Remus put his book down and offered, “I’ll stay up a while with you, Pads. We can close the drapes on your bed and put a Silencing Charm on them so we don’t disturb the others.”

Silencing Charms were something they had all mastered early on to combat the problem of Peter’s snoring, but were also used for this purpose of accommodating those who wanted to go to bed early.

Sirius immediately shifted to make room for Remus on the bed, they said goodnight to the other two and implemented their isolation.

“Not looking forward to going home?” Remus asked once they were settled.

“Do I ever?” Sirius replied despondently.

Remus grimaced in sympathy. Remus was an excellent listener – compassionate and attentive. Despite all his own difficulties in life, he would always make time to listen to Sirius’ troubles and, over the years of their friendship, Sirius had opened up to him a lot about his home life. Sirius knew Remus’ parents were over-protective and often almost stifling, but that never prevented Remus from understanding the opposite problem that Sirius had with his family. Sirius felt very comfortable in Remus’ quiet, loyal company, and they had become very close. Out of all his friends, Sirius thought he was going to miss Remus the most over the summer.

“Six weeks is a long time in that house,” Sirius said. He thought for a moment, calculating the days. “And you’ll have to make it through two full moons on your own.” He didn’t like the thought of Remus having to go back to being locked up to mutilate himself during his transformations. The last few full moons, since the others had become Animagi, had been far more pleasant – and even fun for the werewolf.

Remus chuckled suddenly, surprising Sirius with the unexpected reaction.

At Sirius’ questioning glance, he explained, “I just thought it was strange for two sixteen-year-old boys to be so depressed about the school holidays.”

Sirius smiled in agreement. “I suppose neither of us is exactly normal.” He lay back across the bedclothes, putting his hands behind his head. “I just wish we could stay here all the time – you and me. And James and Peter, of course,” he added almost as an afterthought.

Remus shifted forwards so he was leaning slightly over Sirius, and captured his gaze. “Of course James and Peter as well,” he murmured.

They fell into silence, and Sirius found himself mesmerised by Remus’ gaze, a warm feeling spreading through him as he regarded his friend.

Suddenly, Remus leaned down and kissed him. It felt so completely natural and right, that Sirius just kissed him back.

* * * * *

Sirius drifted back to awareness slowly; the familiar sensation of Hogwarts bedclothes against his skin made him feel warm and safe. He stretched and snuggled deeper under the covers, not wanting to acknowledge the start of a new day just yet.

However, a sleepy murmur of “Good morning” right in his ear startled him fully awake. Then he felt an arm slip round his waist from behind, followed by a warm body pressing against him.

For a moment, Sirius’ brain froze in confused panic as he scrambled for an explanation, but then the memories rushed back and with them came a wave of contentment. He ran his fingers down the arm that held him, finally entwining them in the fingers that were gently stroking his abdomen.

He smiled. “Good morning to you, too,” he said to Remus.

Sirius thought back to the previous night. When Remus had kissed him, it hadn’t taken him by surprise at all – which, in retrospect, was perhaps rather surprising in itself. What followed was some inexpert fumbling, a few awkward limb entanglements, and a messy but satisfying conclusion. Ever practical, Remus had produced his wand and performed an excellent clean-up – and then they had just curled up together and gone to sleep, without even saying a word about what had happened.

Now, the morning after, Sirius rolled over and was confronted by such a goofy grin on Remus’ face that he knew there would be no regrets. Evidently, his own expression didn’t convey the same assurances, since Remus immediately frowned and asked, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just going to be even harder to say goodbye to you today, now,” Sirius told him.

Remus smiled in relief and gathered Sirius in his arms, planting a kiss on his lips. “But just think how much better it’s going to be when we see each other again.”

Sirius hugged him tightly. “I wish I could come and stay with you over the summer.”

“I do, too,” came the muffled reply, “but you know you can’t. I don’t fancy explaining to my parents why you wouldn’t mind sharing my bed.”

Now it was Sirius’ turn to be practical. “Speaking of explanations, hadn’t you better get back to your own bed now? The others will be up soon.”

“Are we going to keep this a secret from James and Peter, then?” Remus asked.

“Not necessarily,” Sirius said, “but I think we need to talk about that, and I don’t really want to have to deal with that this morning, if you don’t mind.” He kissed Remus on the nose, making the other boy smile. “I’d rather just enjoy this for the moment, before it gets complicated.”

He was relieved when Remus agreed with him. “Fair enough,” Remus said, then slipped noiselessly between the drapes, leaving Sirius alone in his bed.

* * * * *

Breakfast was an entertaining affair. Sirius sat next to Remus and nearly choked on his bacon when he felt a roaming hand on his thigh not long into the meal. He recovered quickly, despite a quizzical look from James, and switched his fork to his other hand so he could reach down and clasp Remus’ fingers under the table. A few stolen glances soon had them both sniggering, to the bemusement of James and Peter, sitting opposite.

When Sirius slipped off one of his shoes to slide his foot up Remus’ trouser leg, causing the other boy to yelp in surprise, James finally demanded, “What’s with you two this morning? Has someone slipped some kind of crazy potion into the ketchup?”

Sirius exchanged another glance with Remus, but neither replied. James merely rolled his eyes at them and went back to his breakfast. It wouldn’t be long, though, Sirius thought, before James figured out what was going on, particularly if he and Remus were unable to control themselves.

Soon it was time to take the coaches to Hogsmeade and, before they knew it, they were boarding the Hogwarts Express, bound for London. The journey was long, but Sirius wished it could have been longer. In between games of Exploding Snap and swapping cards from Chocolate Frogs, he stored up memories of Remus’ eyes and smile, and the way his elegant fingers shuffled the pack, all the time wondering why it had taken him so long to realise how beautiful Remus was.

All too soon, the train was pulling into the station and it was time to say goodbye. Peter gave a rueful wave as his parents dragged him off, his mother haranguing him over the state of his clothes as they went. Remus’ mum and dad were waiting anxiously at the end of the platform, rushing forwards to meet him as soon as they saw him.

“Send me an owl to let me know when we can meet up,” he called to James. He cast a long look over his shoulder at Sirius, and then he was gone.

Sirius looked around the station, but didn’t see anyone who might be waiting for him. He wasn’t surprised. Then he spotted Mr and Mrs Potter making their way over, and he smiled a greeting. He had always got on very well with James’ parents; they were friendly and caring, and treated him almost like a second son.

“Hello, Sirius,” Mr Potter said warmly. “Had a good term?”

“Yes, thanks,” he replied.

Mrs Potter glanced around. “Isn’t anybody here to meet you?” she asked. At his shrug, she offered, “We can see you home if you like.”

“It’s alright,” Sirius assured her. “I don’t want to take you out of your way. I can get the Knight Bus. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure,” she answered, then turned to give James a hug. “We’ll see you soon, I hope, Sirius,” she continued. “You know you’re always welcome any time.”

Sirius smiled his thanks, grateful for her concern but pleased at her respect for his independence in not insisting he go with them. He said goodbye to James and watched the Potter family make their way to the magic gateway. Once they were gone, he heaved his trunk onto a trolley and wheeled it over to a different exit that led out into a secluded back alley. It wasn’t possible to hail the Knight Bus outside the main entrance to the station as there were far too many Muggles about, but Sirius was well aware of the correct procedure. This wasn’t the first time he’d been left to find his own way home. He halted the trolley at the side of the road and stuck out his wand.

Almost instantly, a triple-decker purple bus materialised at the kerb, screeching to a halt with a displacement of air that blew Sirius’ hair back from his forehead. The doors opened creakily and a portly man in a conductor’s uniform leaned out.

“Where to, young sir?” he asked.

“Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, please,” Sirius told him, manhandling his cumbersome trunk up the steps and onto the bus. Bending down, he grasped the handle of a small door behind the driver’s seat, called out, “Sirius Black,” and pulled the door open to reveal a storage space. He shoved the trunk inside, closed the door firmly and then turned to the conductor. Fumbling in his pocket for some change, he eventually pulled out enough coins to pay the fare, and handed them to the waiting conductor.

The man smiled at him and said, “Welcome to the Knight Bus, Mr Black. Please take a seat.”

Sirius did as he was told, selecting a seat near the back of the bus where he could look out of the window. A few seconds later, the bus gave a lurch and the streets of a town Sirius didn’t recognise started whizzing past at an alarming rate. Before too long, the bus came to a sudden halt, throwing Sirius forwards into the seat in front of him.

“Kings Arms, Newcastle Upon Tyne!” the conductor called out and an elderly wizard in olive green robes got up. He made his way to the door behind the driver’s seat, grabbed the handle and said clearly, “Jebediah Rollingrock.” He opened the door, pulled out two battered suitcases and clambered off the bus, calling out his thanks as he went. Then they were off again.

Sirius wondered how many more stops they would have to make before it was his turn. His desire to get off the uncomfortable bus warred with his lack of enthusiasm for getting home, and he wished he could have directed the conductor somewhere else. But he had nowhere else to go, so home was his only choice.

Several more wizards and witches were dropped off and picked up at places all over the country, until the conductor suddenly called out Grimmauld Place. Sirius scrambled to the front of the bus, retrieved his trunk and, before he knew it, he was standing outside his house. Taking a deep breath, he reached up and opened the door.

The hallway was dark and uninviting, but Sirius didn’t need a light to find his way. He dumped his trunk at the bottom of the stairs and went to the sitting room. His mother looked up at his entrance.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said with a total lack of interest, turning her attention back to the book in her lap.

The dismissal hit Sirius like a physical blow. He immediately berated himself for his idiocy; every single time he came home, it was the same, and yet, every single time, he entered the house with an insane hope that maybe this time it would be different. Maybe this time his mother would show some pleasure at his homecoming, or even simply acknowledge him with more than simple indifference. And every single time, he was disappointed. He didn’t know why he continued to set himself up to be hurt, and he was determined not to let her see he was affected.

“Yes, mother, it’s me,” he said brightly, then continued with heavy sarcasm, “Thank you so much for coming to meet me at the station.”

She didn’t look up. “I didn’t think you were coming back until next week.”

Sirius sighed inwardly, unsurprised. “No, mother, that’s Regulus. His term finishes a week later than mine.”

Now she did glance up at him, contempt in her eyes. “Ah, yes,” she said, “they work the pupils much harder at Durmstrang, don’t they? Not like the soft-headed Mudblood-lovers at your school.”

Sirius felt his anger rising, but he fought to keep it under control, knowing that arguing with his mother would be utterly fruitless. “Is father not at home?” he asked.

“No, he’s away on business until tomorrow,” came the reply. “So,” his mother continued, “I haven’t heard any bad reports of your behaviour this term. Is there anything I should be aware of?”

Sirius knew she wasn’t really interested; she just wanted to check that none of her friends would have any ammunition against her from their children passing on information about him. Suddenly, he felt a tremendous urge to share his all-important news. He knew nothing good could come of it, but he couldn’t help himself – he had to tell someone, and she was the only one there.

“Actually, yes,” he announced, unable to keep a smile from his face. “I’m in love.”

This time, her attention was fully caught, and she stared at him for a moment in disbelief. Then she gave a snort of laughter. “Love is for the weak,” she said. “It makes you vulnerable, easy to manipulate.” Then a thought obviously crossed her mind. “I hope whoever you’ve latched yourself onto is of a family worthy to be associated with a Black.”

Now that he had opened the topic, Sirius found himself unwilling to back down, no matter how much what he said might provoke his mother. “Actually, the mother of the person in question is a Muggle,” he revealed.

His mother’s expression grew stormy and she rose slowly from her chair. “A Muggle?” she intoned, her voice icy. “My son dating a Mudblood? Impossible! Who is this girl?” she demanded.

It had gone too far now for Sirius not to finish it. He kept his tone carefully neutral, though he felt his heartbeat speeding up in anticipation of the effect of what he was about to say. "He’s a boy. That’s right,” he continued as his mother’s mouth dropped open, “your son is a Mudblood-loving queer.”

Without warning, she advanced on him and slapped him hard across the face. Then she grabbed his lapels and shoved him roughly backwards towards the door.

“How dare you bring such depravity into this house!” she shrieked. “Get out!”

Sirius staggered back a couple of steps, then stopped and stared at his mother in stunned horror.

“Get out of my house!” she repeated, at his hesitation.

Anger took over from shock; Sirius spun on his heel and stalked back out in the hallway. His trunk was still where he’d left it, so he picked up one end and dragged it back out into the street. His first thought was to go to Remus, but he dismissed that immediately as impossible. The reasons why he couldn’t visit Remus in the holidays applied doubly to him randomly turning up on the doorstep late at night. His next option was eminently more sensible – the Potters.

For the second time that evening, Sirius stepped up to the kerb and stuck out his wand. The Knight Bus appeared exactly as before, the doors opening to reveal the now familiar conductor.

He peered out at Sirius and exclaimed, “Here now, didn’t we just drop you off?”

“Yes,” Sirius replied exasperatedly, heaving his trunk up the steps onto the bus, “and now I need to get back on again.”

The conductor stepped out of his way, waited while he stowed his luggage, then accepted his fare and destination without comment. Then Sirius trudged to the back of the bus and slumped down into a seat. The bus was back on its way in no time.

It was much more crowded than it had been earlier, so Sirius knew he was in for a long ride. His face was stinging and he reached up to feel the heat of his cheek where his mother’s blow had landed. His mind was still reeling over what had happened; he had known telling his mother about Remus would make her angry, but he had never imagined she would throw him out of the house entirely. And in all the years he had deliberately provoked her, she had never once raised a hand to actually strike him before. Still, it was the rejection rather than the physical blow that really hurt the most.

Sirius mentally shook himself out of impending depression; why should he care if his mother didn’t want him any more? He would be perfectly alright on his own. He decided then and there that, even if she begged him to come back (unlikely as that was), he would refuse. He didn’t like having to impose on the Potters, but he knew they wouldn’t mind putting him up at least for a few days, and that would give him more time to formulate a plan for the rest of the holidays.

By the time the conductor finally called out James’ address, it was very late and was raining heavily. James’ house was situated at the end of a narrow lane, which the bus couldn’t navigate, so Sirius was left where it met the main road. He got out his wand and attempted to levitate his trunk, but the weather combined with his emotional turmoil to destroy his concentration, and he was unable to execute the spell correctly.

“Perfect,” he muttered darkly, before picking up one end of the trunk and starting to drag it down the lane.

After a wet and miserable few minutes, the Potter house finally appeared out of the darkness, its lights greeting him cheerfully. A somewhat bedraggled Sirius knocked at the door, glad of the evidence that the Potters were still up.

Mrs Potter answered the door. “Sirius!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” There was no censure in her voice, only surprise. Then she glanced down at the trunk set beside him in the doorway and her expression turned to concern. “Come in, dear, and you can tell us all what’s happened.”

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” Sirius mumbled, but she cut him off before he could continue.

“Don’t be silly,” she admonished softly. “You know you can always come to us, no matter what. Now, let’s get you out of the rain and into some dry clothes.” She ushered him inside, then turned to the stairs and called out, “James!”

Her unconditional kindness made Sirius suddenly want to cry, and he was grateful for a moment’s distraction to get himself back under control. There was the sound of a door opening above them, and James came pounding down the stairs. He stopped at the unexpected sight of his friend.

“Sirius!” he exclaimed in an echo of his mother, but her calm practicality pre-empted his inevitable questions.

“Find Sirius something to wear, darling,” Mrs Potter instructed, “then you can both come back down and we’ll have some hot chocolate.”

Sirius obediently followed James up the stairs, and accepted some dry clothing from him gratefully.

“Just come back down when you’re ready,” James told him simply, though Sirius could tell he was bursting to ask what was going on.

For the moment, though, Sirius was glad of a brief reprieve, and he took his time getting changed. It was wonderful to put on clothes that weren’t his, in a house so different to the cold grandeur of Grimmauld Place. Standing in the Potters’ comfortable spare room, he could almost imagine that the rest of the evening hadn’t happened. Eventually, though, he knew he couldn’t put off the explanations any longer, and he made his way slowly back downstairs to the warm and cosy kitchen, where all three Potters were patiently waiting for him.

He sat down at the table with them, and Mrs Potter put a steaming mug down in front of him.

“Evening, Sirius,” Mr Potter said genially. “Had another fight with your mother?”

“You could say that,” Sirius replied wryly.

“Well, you know you’re more than welcome to stay here until you’re ready to go home again,” Mrs Potter assured him. “Does your mother know where you are?”

Sirius snorted derisively. “I don’t think she’d care,” he said bitterly. “I didn’t run away this time – she threw me out.”

“Oh, Sirius,” Mrs Potter said sympathetically. “You did exactly the right thing in coming here. I’m sure James has no objection to you staying with us.”

“Course not, old chap.” James grinned.

“Thanks,” Sirius said wholeheartedly, then raised his mug and tilted his head back to take a sip.

Mrs Potter gasped. “What happened to your face?” she cried.

Sirius immediately ducked his head so that his hair fell forwards to hide the reddened skin on his cheek but it was too late. Mrs Potter was instantly at his side, gently brushing the hair back again to examine the damage.

Sirius grimaced. “Mother got a little carried away in trying to persuade me to leave.”

“Your mother hit you?” James spluttered in disbelief.

At Sirius’ rueful nod, Mr Potter announced decisively, “That settles it. You’re not going back there. You’ll stay with us for the rest of the holidays.”

Inwardly, Sirius gave a cheer, but his sense of pride presented an obstacle. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not,” Mr Potter replied firmly. “I’m telling you that’s the way it’s going to be. I’ll head over to your house tomorrow and let your parents know. You can give me a list of anything you want me to collect while I’m there.”

Sirius felt tears threatening again, and hid his face in his mug. “Thank you,” he mumbled again, feeling as though the simple words were wholly inadequate for what he wanted to express.

“Now, though, I think it’s time you boys went to bed,” Mrs Potter said, matter-of-factly. “You should be quite comfortable in the spare room, Sirius, but just shout if there’s anything you need.”

As he rose from the table, she pulled him into a brief hug, then bustled both boys out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

As Sirius made his way to his room, he realised that neither of James’ parents had asked him what the fight with his mother had been about, or what he had done to provoke it. They had simply taken him in and offered him a place to stay indefinitely, no questions asked.

He wasn’t going to escape an explanation altogether, though, as James followed him into the spare room and sat down on the bed.

“So, what was the old bat’s problem this time?” he asked.

Sirius wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to lie to James, but he was also much more worried about his friend’s reaction to the news about Remus than he had been about his mother’s. He knew he couldn’t deal with another row tonight.

“Oh, you know, the same old stuff,” he hedged, hoping James would let it go.

But James wouldn’t. “Come on, Si,” he pressed. “You’ve been fighting with your mother about the same old stuff for years, but this,” – he gestured at Sirius’ inflamed cheek - “and kicking you out of the house? There must have been something else.”

Sirius looked down at his hands, not sure how to explain.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to. “I thought maybe you’d told her about you and Remus…” James continued.

Astonished, Sirius brought his head up to meet James’ searching gaze. “You – you know?”

James grinned. “I’ve been expecting it to happen for months,” he said. “Besides, I saw Remus sneaking out of your bed this morning, and the two of you couldn’t have been more obvious at breakfast if you’d tried!”

Sirius was still floundering. “And – and you don’t mind?”

“Mind? Of course not!” James exclaimed good-naturedly. “What do you take me for? Some narrow-minded, pureblood-obsessed freak? Speaking of whom,” he added with mock indignation, “you didn’t tell me, but you told your mother…?”

Sirius smirked a little. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I told her I was a Mudblood-loving queer.”

James goggled at him. “You actually said that to her?”

Sirius nodded, then sobered at the memory. “That’s when she hit me.”

James winced in sympathy, then got up. “Well, it worked out pretty well for me,” he said, moving to the door. “Welcome to the family, bro.”

* * * * *

Safe and comfortable, and free from the worry of what James might think of his relationship with Remus, Sirius slept late. When he finally did wake, it was to sunlight streaming in through the chinks in the curtains, and a wonderful feeling of peace. The only thing that would have made things better would have been for Remus to be there with him. He stretched and rolled over.

“Good morning,” an unexpected voice said from the doorway.

Sirius’ eyes snapped open to see Remus just entering the room. He scrabbled into a sitting position as the other boy came over and perched on the edge of the bed. Before Sirius could voice the question that was forming on his lips, Remus explained.

“James sent me an owl late last night and I came over first thing this morning.” He smiled at Sirius’ stunned expression. “You really told your mother about us?” he asked. At Sirius’ mute nod, he added affectionately, “What kind of an idiot are you?”

“James guessed.” Sirius finally found his voice.

“Yeah, I know,” Remus told him. “So that saves us a dilemma. We’ll have to tell Peter now, too, but I can’t imagine he’ll object if James doesn’t.” He changed tack. “I can’t believe your mother actually threw you out over it.”

“You don’t know her like I do,” Sirius said darkly. “I shouldn’t have been surprised. She thinks pureblood families are the only ones worth anything. And anyone who doesn’t fit into her perfect little idea of traditional values and correct behaviour is just dirt under her shoe. My father’s just as bad – I don’t imagine he’ll have any problem with what she did.” He leaned forward impulsively, pulling Remus to him and hugging him tightly. “Why did I have to be born a Black?”

Remus held him close for a moment, then released him and stared deep into his eyes. “I don’t care what your family is like,” he said seriously. “You’re the only one I’m interested in.” He reached up and fondled a lock of Sirius’ hair. “Black is the colour of my true love’s hair,” he quoted, then brought his hand down to cup Sirius’ bruised cheek. “And Black may be the colour of my true love’s name.” Finally, he moved his hand to rest on Sirius’ chest. “But black is definitely not the colour of my true love’s heart.”

THE END


End file.
